


Adulting 102

by Chash



Series: Holiday Fills 2016 [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, YouTube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 19:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8765395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Fill for mostlypoptarts! Prompt: mortgage.





	

Of all the things that genuinely shock Bellamy about his life–and there are a lot–the most baffling has always been and probably always will be that he’s financially stable. It’s one of those poor-kid things; having enough money was something that happened to other people, a constant “that sounds fake, but” meme whenever he thought about it. And his chosen career honestly does not help. Having enough money is already incomprehensible; having enough money because people like _watching him play video games_ feels like the kind of fantasy he would have come up with when he was twelve and pretending he got something to eat at school so that Octavia wouldn’t feel guilty for taking his dinner.

At thirty-three, Bellamy Blake is actually _well off_. Not even just with the money. He has a completely functional, good life. He’s married to a wonderful, amazing woman who loves him. He has a lucrative career than he loves, that lets him do basically whatever he wants and get paid for it. His sister is happy, his friends are happy, and he’s got a _kid_ on the way. A kid who’s going to learn the value of a dollar without having to go hungry first.

Sometimes, when he wakes up, he’s still sure he’ll be in another life. A much worse one.

But instead, he wakes up with Clarke half on top of him, her hair in his mouth, and goes about his day.

And then Clarke says, “We should probably get a house.”

In a way, it’s not actually a surprise. They’d been discussing a bigger place, but he’d assumed they’d be renting it, because that’s how this works, in his mind. Bellamy’s been dealing with landlords since he was ten, and he thinks of them as an inherent part of life. And owning property is–well, it’s a _commitment_. He’s lived in Boston his whole life, and he had no plans to move, but he’s also always known he _could_.

“A house?” he asks.

“A house,” Clarke agrees. She smiles. “Don’t panic.”

“Who said I was panicking?”

“Your face.”

“ _Your_ face,” he shoots back, and. “Why would we get a house?”

“Why wouldn’t we? Houses are cool. We could have more room.”

“We don’t need more room. We have plenty of room.”

“Not for two kids.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Are we having twins and no one told me?”

“I’m pretty sure we want a second kid in the future. And at least one pet. I think kids should have pet. I never had any growing up, and I want our kids to have them. I want a yard, and I want a swing set in the yard. I know you didn’t have that stuff,” she says, quickly. “And you turned out great. But our kids could have that, and I want them to.”

He opens and closes his mouth, but it’s not like he has a counterargument, and he knows it. They could afford to buy a house. It would be a good idea, a good investment.

Fuck. He’s in a position to make _good investments_.

“How do you even buy a house?”

Clarke’s arms slide around him, her stomach pressing against his back, still this strange, unbelievable thing, cheek resting on his shoulder. “I bet we can figure it out,” she says.

“Yeah, I bet.” He sighs, twists around so he can hug her back. “I’m going to suck at this,” he tells her.

“It’s cool. I’ll be good at it. That’s how marriage works.”

*

Before Bellamy started dating Clarke, he didn’t really worry about what he said on camera. He made some waves a few times with poorly chosen words and unpopular opinions, but he’s always been good at defending himself.

The problem with Clarke–which is only a problem in the most positive possible sense of the word–is that he wants to talk about her all the time. For the first few months, it was in the obnoxious, honeymoon-period way, where he was so stupidly excited just to have _a girlfriend_ , and not just any girlfriend, but a serious girlfriend. Someone who felt like she could be _the one_. He has it on good authority that he was basically made of sap and rainbows for a good four months, and it took a lot of effort to rein it in on camera, first because he and Clarke were keeping it quiet and then because there is a bizarre and careful algebra to his public relationship with her.

It’s weird, the vaguely fictional version of himself that exists online, the one who can’t mention his own wife too much because he’s _pandering to the shippers_ , the one who loves Clarke, but has to think about how long it’s been since he last mentioned her, just in case.

Merging the channels helped. Accusations that he’s trying to promote his wife were always stupid–she’s his _wife_ , of course he’s promoting her–but once they’re on the same channel, no one can say it’s a conflict of interests. And it’s honestly a relief. He gets people not caring about his personal life–he’s an internet stranger, it’s honestly weird to him when they _do_ care about his personal life–but being violently opposed to it is weird.

Probably they’re just jealous he gets to be married to a hot cosplayer and they don’t. That, at least, makes sense.

But there’s something about buying a house that makes him want to talk about it. It’s not really about _Clarke_ , not in the same way other things are. But Clarke gets this stuff. Clarke has resources. She can talk to her mother about loans; she knows the secret things that rich people know about property. She’d already helped him out with investments and saving, and he still feels a little like he’s cheating.

Which is how he finds himself saying, “We should talk about this.”

“We are talking about this,” she says. “I made graphs and everything.”

He has to smile. “Yeah, I didn’t mean–we should do something on the channel with this. Finance corner or something. I’m an adult who’s been self-sufficient since I was eighteen and I don’t actually know that much about how mortgages work or what a good loan rate is. We could be helping people with this.”

“You want to film us buying a house?”

“It’s not all going to work for everyone. I know we’re doing better than other people, but I’m still not _rich_. And cash isn’t going to go nearly as far once we’ve got a kid. That kind of transparency–that’s the kind of thing I never got when I was a kid.”

“I do know a lot of stupid rich-person tricks,” she says. Her voice is distant, the way it gets when she’s thinking hard, considering all potential outcomes. “I guess the worst that can happen is it fails and drags the rest of the channel down with it and we have to try to make it on the Magic pro-tour. But since it would probably just fail on its own and we’d still be producing other content, yeah.” She rests her head on his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“About what?”

“Your life.”

“My life is awesome. You know that.”

“I do,” she agrees. “But–it’s a lot. My mom still thinks we’re moving too fast.”

“Huh. If I thought that, I’d slow down.” He kisses her hair. “Is this one of those things where you’re upset and you don’t want to say that, so you’re asking if I’m upset? You can just talk to me.”

“No, I’m good. Seriously. But I know–I know the house thing scares you.”

“Not in a bad way,” he says. “But, yeah. It’s a lot. I’m a city kid, Clarke. We don’t own property. If I can, I want other people to do it too.”

She twists around, presses her mouth against his, firm.“I love you,” she says.

“You better. If I can’t pay for this shit, you’re on the hook.” But he’s smiling. “Yeah. I love you too.”

*

“Okay, so, this is a new feature you might not care about,” Clarke says.

“Probably half of you saw both of us are in it and didn’t even want to click,” Bellamy says. “Or you just want to fuel your weird conspiracy theories that we’re not really married.”

“Is the baby fake?”

“I think it’s real, it’s just not mine.”

“Shit, I’m so behind on the conspiracies.” She turns her attention back to the camera. “Anyway, even though this baby isn’t Bellamy’s, he’s going to step up and raise it.”

“I’m just a really stand-up guy.”

“The best guy,” Clarke says. There’s no sarcasm in it at all, of course. He smiles back, stupidly sappy. This is why they aren’t allowed to make that many videos together. They are, apparently, nauseating. “Anyway, one thing we’re doing is–adulting.”

“So much adulting. And this is the kind of adulting that I suck at. You guys know I grew up poor, and I somehow make a decent amount of money doing this. But Clarke’s the one who taught me how to turn that money into financial stability.”

“First step, don’t just keep cash in a shoebox under your bed.”

“That was never _all_ my cash.”

“It was too much of your cash.”

“It was.” He smiles at the camera. “So, yeah. This is us walking you through financial planning. If that sounds boring, click out. But–if you want to learn how mortgages work and how we’re budgeting having a kid, well–it’s been really educational for me. So I hope it will be for you too.”

Clarke pecks him on the cheek. “This is why I’m actually married to him, internet.”

“But it’s still not my baby.” He grins. “Okay. Let’s do this.”


End file.
